Through the Glistening Surface
by clicheusername1234
Summary: A continuation of canon including infinite eyerolls, humor, and drama. The lantern has been extinguished, but at what cost? Without the beast, the foundations of the Unknown begin to tear apart. Beatrice, now human, is the only person to escape from the strange world's abrupt shutdown. She soon finds herself in an unfamiliar land, joining with a few familiar faces to save her home.
1. Ill

It's been a week since the lantern was extinguished.

Obviously, nobody really notices the difference. Life, or death, or _whatever_ this is, goes on. My mother still lectures me about letting the dog outside, my youngest brother still rips coins from the seams of my dresses, and my father is still nervous to look me in the eye.

It's also been a week since I restored my family to their natural human forms. As opposed to, well, bluebird- forms.

I've kind of been in the doghouse- -or birdhouse- during the aftermath of my winged fiasco. Look, I'm going to be blunt here; I did some pretty bad stuff in the past month. I threw a rock at a bluebird because it wouldn't stop harassing my dog, and then it turned _me _into a bluebird. My family, unfortunately, wasn't spared.

But hey, everything is fine now. Right?

Not right. For the past week, I've had a _sick_ feeling in my stomach. At first I thought it was due to the large amounts of maggots I consumed as a bird, but I noticed that nobody else in my family looked ill. I'm sick in my brain, too. Everywhere, I just kind of… ache.

I'm going to make a confession: I've seen things. _Really scary things. _I consider myself to be a tough girl; I like going outside and falling off of things on occasion. But what I saw a week ago… it was indescribable. I would have died afterwards if my mother had not found me lying unconscious in the snow.

I look out of my tiny bedroom window and smear the glass. It's been snowing for days now, ever since Wirt and Greg left. I personally hate the cold, but then again I also hate the heat. Outside, I see a tangled briar and gangly trees- _trees, ah!_ I slam the curtains to cover the view.

Great. Now I can add "trees" to the list of things I should never look at again. Also listed: frogs, potatoes, molasses, and any animal with antlers. Soon enough I'll _have_ to lock myself in here in order to function.

_Crash!_

I watch as my teacup shatters and leaks liquid everywhere. I peer back up at the bedside table and cock my head. That's weird…

Shrugging, I pick up the pieces and toss them away. I don't think I moved the bed enough to shake the table, but I'm usually doing clumsy things like this in one way or another.

As I was saying, I've seen some freaky stuff in the past month. A creepy old pasture lady who had a passion for child slavery, a soul- stealing beast cloaked in shadows, and -_shudder_- frogs doing the tango. Granted, we defeated two of the three, but those frogs haunt me at night just as much as the beast's haunting voice.

And who, do you ask, is involved in the collected pronoun "we"?

I think _they're_ making me the most sick.

This is a different sick from normal; I'm not vomiting or coughing or crying. I just… really want to go away from here.

Wirt and Greg are not from here. Where is here? I don't even know! Not once have I ever asked my mother the name of our land, the name of our country. The forest that surrounds my home seems to be limitless, and the only way I can reach the swamplands is by ferry.

For my whole life, I have lived here. I have played with my dog, teased my countless little brothers, and collected coins to store for later.

I think I always intended those pennies sewn into my dresses to be used on the ferry, but even the swamplands are limited.

Meeting Wirt and Greg opened up a whole new world to my imagination; a foreign paradise where adventure is fruitful and there are plenty of mistakes to be made.

I feel sick because I'm _here_. I'm alone; loving parents can only support a growing daughter for certain lengths. I'm cold, bored, and angry. I just want to throw something…

I pick up the shattered teacup and lock aim at the glass window. I feel my face getting hotter, and-

_No._

Tears stream down my face as I gently place the shards on the bed. Remember what happened last time you got angry, Beatrice? You got turned into a bird. A bird! You ruined it for your family, too…

But is it so horrible to _want_ things? To want the gentle winds beckoning through the leaves? To want to be with interesting new people and do interesting new things? I just _wish_ I could- oh, scratch that, wishes never work.

I _want _dearly and entirely to travel beyond my home. To meet daring adventurers like myself, to experience new cultures and flairs…

I'd like to go into the unknown, wherever that is.

_Rip!_

I scream as my bedsheet is torn out from under me, causing the cup to shatter even more. I look to my left in horror; I was so caught up in my miserable internal dialogue that I didn't notice the sinister black fog seeping through the window!

I run to the door and pull it open, pocketing my golden scissors on the way. I rush into the hallway to warn my family, but the fog has already reached them… it stings my eyes as I run away.

It's coming at me from all directions! I'm trapped…

Or am I?

I climb out of the center hallway window and carefully mount the waterwheel. I try to accelerate it with my ballet flat, but I just can't seem to find the sweet spot in the gears.

Come on, I've done this before…

_Crack!_

Yes! I brace myself as I rush towards the pond… now I just need to grab that tree branch-

_Snap!_

I watch in horror as the fog cracks the branch. Everything moves in slow motion as I brace myself for contact.

I feel my body plunge into freezing water and ice. I refuse to inhale, but evidently I also refuse to move.

I reach my hand to the surface, but nothing else.

The world is cold and everything goes black.

ONE WEEK AGO

"Goodbye, Wirt," I say in the darkness, grasping for his hand. I want him to feel mine, feel the skin and the bones…

I can't reach him.

"Goodbye, Beatrice…."

I feel their departure in my body, like the warmth has been removed from my blood. Weak, hungry, and tired, I drop the scissors and fall to the snow- covered ground.

_Gasp!_

That's not air, that's not air! I spit out the cold water into… more water. I can move! Determined, I hold my breath and swim to the visible surface.

My hair has fallen out of the bun and falls in my face. I sputter as I try to breathe in the fresh breeze. I see stars in the night sky, and lights in the distance… hopefully I can swim to shore. It's a far swim though…

"Uh… ma'am?" asks a female voice from behind me. I screech and turn around to face a small lake beach. Oh.

Wait, is that…?

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" asks the other person, a tall boy in an orange sweater vest.

I suddenly feel the strong urge to faint in ankle-deep water. I mutter more to myself than to him:

"Your hat… where is it…"

And with that eloquent interrogation, my knees buckle and rocky sand scratches my bare shoulders.

A hand, _his _hand, drags me out of the lake as I drift into inky blackness.

**A/N: Heyyy! Sorry for that emotional rollercoaster, but I figured that I should start things with a bang. This fic will have tasteful romance (infinite eyerolls), adventure, and humor, but most importantly a proper continuation of canon (I hope). Thank you for reading and I hope you continue. I will update as soon as I can. Bye!**

**-clicheusername1234**


	2. Reunion

"_Ugh…._"

I rub my head and try to sit up, quite disoriented and certainly confused. I remember running from the black fog and falling into the pond by my house. I also remember waking up in an entirely different body of water.

Speaking of body, mine hurts.

I look down at my dress and cringe at the dirt stains. My mother is going to kill me… oh, _wait_.

My family! My house! Are they… gone?

I… died. I died! I died and now I'm here! Did they die, too?

Is this… Hell?

"Here, drink this," says a voice from behind me. I am handed a warm cup and slurp it down.

_Wow._

This isn't Hell. There is no way this is Hell.

"Hey, thanks," I begin to say, rotating my torso.

"No big deal. My little brother makes the best hot chocolate ever."

"Yeah, that sounds like Greg," I say, smiling. I wave sheepishly at the boy in the orange sweater vest.

"How do you know-"

"Wirt, it's me. Beatrice."

He steps back and drops the little black rectangle that he was formerly tapping. Its glass screen cracks on what seems to be kitchen tile, but he doesn't notice.

"B- Beatrice? From… _the Unknown_?"

"No, Beatrice from Canada. Of course it's me, you dope!" I say, grinning. He doesn't think I'm funny. Am I denial? Is that what's happening right now?

Wirt is panicking. As my vision clears up, I notice a clean kitchen around me. A stove, some counters, a pleasant muted green and yellow color scheme… but there are many things I _don't_ recognize. Another black rectangle, but bigger. A machine stocked with coffee cups and beans. A… cat?

"Raini! Stop chasing Jason Funderberger!" yells a familiar voice from outside the room.

The big white cat, instead of following the frog, happily approaches my still fallen form. A few pillows are around me, but it's obvious that Wirt didn't want to get too close to the strange girl he saved from the lake. Hey, wasn't he with someone?

"Greeeeeg! Let them be together, they're in love!" sings a teasing female voice.

Suddenly, both Greg and the girl from the lake burst into the kitchen, panting. Their voices overlap.

"Wirt-"

"Wirt, have you seen-"

"Have you seen-"

"I found the cat," I volunteer awkwardly.

"Oh, hey, Beatrice," Greg says dismissively. I raise an eyebrow and look at Wirt, who frowns.

"Greg, how'd you know it was her?"

"You found her in the same lake that took us to her world, her voice is the same, and her color scheme is similar," says Greg, walking over to me. "How're you doing, Beatrice?"

"I'm very confused and in some pain, but that's okay."

"No it's not! Wirt, have you given her anything?"

"I'm too afraid to, I don't know if she's human or-"

"HOLD. UP," yells the girl. She looks to Wirt. "We dragged this chick back to your house and basically nursed her back into consciousness using Greg's hot chocolate powers, and you didn't even bother to _wonder_ if you should mention that she's an _alien_?"

"I'm not an alien," I argue weakly, "I'm just as human as you are."

"Then, pardon my hysteria, what _are_ you?"

Greg laughs and leans on my weak figure.

"You two haven't met yet! Beatrice, this is Sara, Wirt's _girlfriend_. Sara, this is Beatrice, a bluebird that Wirt and I met when we almost died last week!"

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"She also tried to trade us to a crazy child slavery lady in order to become human again…"

Sara looks me up and down.

"Well, did you?"

"What?"

"Did you sell them to a crazy lady?"

"Why would I ever do that?!"

"Well, you don't _look_ like a bluebird-"

"Allllright, let's calm down now…" says Wirt, holding Sara's hand. She shoves him off.

"No! This is… crazy! Crazy _cool_, but crazy nonetheless!"

"I thought you wouldn't believe me-"

"Ohhh, I believe it. Macey and I always talk about alternate dimensions and stuff- I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner, this is insane!"

"Well, it's nice to know that you're having a satisfactory time, but I _literally_ just went under a water wheel," I say, trying to stand up. It doesn't work.

Wirt reaches out a hand and I grab it. He's really weak, so I kind of support myself. It's the thought that counts, right?

Sara crosses her arms and stands behind Greg.

"When are your parents going to get home?" she asks Wirt, looking at her black rectangle.

"Mom's on a business trip. Stepdad's working late. He'll be home soon."

"I… I gotta go. You know, think stuff over."

"I understand."

Sara pecks Wirt on the cheek and heads out the door, which I guess leads out of the house. I notice Greg making a stink- face out of the corner of my eye. Am I… blushing?

"Heeeeey, so I'm super tired. Greg? Can you show me to a designated sleeping area? Or dump me on the front porch, or whatever?"

"You can't sleep in that, silly, Wirt can lend you one of his dresses!"

"_What?_"

"Greg, don't-"

"Wirt collects fancy costumes for boys _and_ girls. He wants to be a costume and prop designer when he goes to college. I'm sure he has a dress that would fit you! Or maybe one of those 'cosplay' things he likes-"

"Beatrice, when you get to the attic, there's a rack in the back left corner. On it, you'll find a few nightgowns," says Wirt, blushing. "Also, don't let Greg touch anything."

"Oookay…" I say, following Greg up two flights of stairs and into the attic.

TEN MINUTES LATER

I sit in the guest room wearing a white nightgown and sipping more hot chocolate. My bruises hurt less, and I'm finally alone.

I'm sure Wirt is a little scared. I am, too. I just… well, my wish came true. It really did, didn't it?

Obviously, I want my family and home to be okay. But for now… well, I wanted a thing and I got it.

Now I just have to use it well.


	3. Good Mourning

"Wait, so what does the home button do?" I ask Greg while shoving a spoon of cereal into my mouth.

He clicks the little circle on his black rectangle (an iPod, I've learned) and a dozen icons appear.

"It brings you home! To all your apps and games and music- not _actually_ home. Speaking of which, when are you planning to go back?"

Wirt groans from behind the kitchen island. He's cooking pancakes for Greg.

"I… I don't know, Greg. We didn't have time to talk about it last night, but I'm kinda stuck here," I say gently.

"That's not good. What about your family?"

"Let's… let's talk about something else."

"No, seriously, Beatrice. You emerged half- dead from the lake, slept in our guest room, and now you're eating my Froot Loops. What happened?" asks Wirt.

"Later, okay?" I plead.

A pause.

"Okay, fine."

"You're still such a pushover…" I mumble, grinning.

"I heard that!"

It's early in the morning, but I'm used to that. Back home, I woke up at the crack of dawn every day to walk the dog. I miss my dog…

"So, what's the plan for today?" I ask, bringing my empty bowl to the sink. "Are we going to take a ferry, or rob a rich old guy-"

"_I'm_ going to school," says Wirt, putting my bowl in the dishwasher. He turns around and takes the pancakes off the grill, just in time. Greg cheers.

"I'm going to school, too! Today we're learning about manta rays!"

"That's not as cool as frogs," I say, grinning.

"Beatrice, did you go to school… back home?"

"Nah, school's only for animals," I say, sitting up on the counter. Wirt slaps me off.

"Takes one to know one," he says, rolling his eyes.

"No, seriously. Only _animals_ go to school where I come from. Y'know, to be brainwashed into hive- like thinkers in order to succeed in the name of functional society? Sheep and stuff. What's yours like?"

"Absolutely no difference," Wirt says, smiling. "You should come check it out."

"That doesn't sound very fun."

"Isn't it better than being here for seven hours, hiding from my parents?"

Luckily, I was able to lock myself in the guest room before Wirt's stepfather arrived. He didn't even check! I'm going to get caught here eventually, but hopefully I can work something out before that happens.

"I don't know, I was going to try to find your hat. You're not the same without it," I tease.

"That's it, you're coming."

"Aaand there goes the pushover."

"Beatrice, you seem less… angry… than you were before. Are you okay?" asks Greg, tugging on my nightgown.

"Well, I'm not a bluebird, so there's that," I say, shrugging. "And let's not forget that I'm here. I mean, this is a new place! And you guys are my pals."

"You tried to give us to a crazy lady," says Wirt dryly. I grab his face and pull him close.

"_My pals_," I whisper playfully.

"You can come, Beatrice, but not in those clothes," says Greg. I blush.

"It's a dress, it's fine-"

"Nobody dresses like that these days, _pal_," says Wirt. "I suppose I could ask Sara to lend you somethi-"

"_NO_!" yells Greg. Wirt and I look at him.

"Huh?"

"I mean, our mom might have something you can borrow- you guys are the same size."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." I say, blushing. What is Greg's problem with Sara? He seemed annoyed by her last night, too.

"Her room's the one next to yours," says Wirt, looking angrily at Greg. "Go get something _quick_."

Pushy, much? _I'm_ supposed to be the pushy one here!

Ugh, Wirt is kind of a jerk. I mean, I knew he was inherently a jerk, but… wow. He was such a hero in the unknown… _now_ he's just tired and cranky.

Then again, my sudden presence must be pretty stressful. Oh, whatever.

I enter the room and instantly step backwards. Wow!

There are canvases with half- painted masterpieces on all four walls. A neatly made bed is beside a stark white armoire.

I rip it open and survey the clothing.

"BEATRICE! HURRY UP!"

Flinching, I grab a blue sweatshirt from the very back, along with jeans and boots. Good enough.

As I pull the sweatshirt on, I feel something in the pocket. It's a pin!

I read its text, mystified.

_Jonathan Steab_

_always in our hearts._

"I'M SERIOUS, BEATRICE!"

Shrugging, I put the golden pin back in the pocket, along with my scissors. All set.

As I slide into the kitchen, Wirt tosses a paper bag at my chest.

"They're maggots!" exclaims Greg.

"I'm not a bird anymore, genius!" I yell angrily, opening it up. A sandwich and an apple. Oh.

"Come on, let's go…" says Wirt, unlocking his front door.

"Yay! Beatrice, this is your first day of school!" enthuses Greg, shutting it behind him.

"And, to her credit, she actually looks… normal," says Wirt, side-eyeing my outfit.

"You're _almost_ there, but the hair ruins it," I say dryly, tossing Wirt the pin. "Any idea what this is?"

He examines it and shrugs.

"Probably from some distant relative's funeral. Where was the sweatshirt?"

"The very back of the closet."

"Yeah, it's not important."

"All right."

I pocket the pin again and take a deep breath.

I'm going to high school… the _real_ unknown.


	4. School Smell

"Do you walk through this forest every day?" I ask Wirt, looking down at the dirt path. We dropped Greg off at his school first, and now we're on our way to the high school. I don't quite understand why so many schools are necessary; in my world, school is only for pack animals. But then again, nothing here is like home. Except, strangely enough, for this forest.

The balconies of autumn maples hang over us while birds sing in the distance. The morning sun shines in sections through the branches. I miss my house, I realize. I miss my dog.

"Yeah, it's a shortcut," says Wirt, hitching up his giant backpack.

"Whatcha got in there?"

"Homework. Do you have that where you come from?"

"Nope. It looks heavy."

"Eh, it's not that bad. If I don't do it, I won't get into any colleges."

"What?"

"More school."

"Jeez," I say, sitting on a rock. "it's all work for you, huh? My world must have been a relief."

"Well, other than the near-death experience, sure. Come on, we're almost there."

"Yay?"

We cross through some bushes and meet with a tangle of buildings, all made of red brick. A football field is visible, as well as a few tennis courts.

"Beatrice, welcome to Central Stone High School, home of the Buzzing Bees," Wirt lamely presents.

"Why, thank you," I say, fake- curtsying.

"Okay, so I have, like classes. You can come as long as you tell everyone you're a foreign exchange student."

"From where?"

"Improvise."

The front of the school is buzzing (get it?) with students of all types. A few blonde girls in yellow uniforms write in notepads and read textbooks, while some scary- looking kids smoke.

"Ouch!" I yell, rubbing my shoulder and glaring at the girl who bumped into me. She has red hair and wears combat boots, as well as an equally intense scowl.

"Totally your fault," she says, stalking away.

"Oh, that's Ana. She's… a little crazy," comments Wirt, rolling his eyes.

"Who's _that_?" I ask, pointing at one of the blonde girls.

"I can't really tell them apart, but I _think_ that one is Isabel. Yeah, those are the cheerleaders. They also maintain perfect GPAs by using one huge groupchat to distribute answers."

"GPA? Groupchat?

"College and internet," Wirt says, relating the strange words to things he's already explained.

"Okay."

"And them?" I ask, pointing to some guys wearing polo shirts, khaki shorts, and high socks.

"They just like to make dumb jokes and stare at girls."

One of them indeed stares at me… and not at my eyes.

"How do you… stop them?" I ask, getting flustered. Wirt grabs my hand and positions it so only my middle finger sticks up. The guys get the message.

"Thanks," I say, blushing. Wirt's hand is surprisingly… warm?

So if these are all people Wirt doesn't like, who _does_ he like?

"H-h-hey, Wirt…" says a dorky looking kid wearing a green suit.

"_Jason Funderberker_," Wirt says under his breath.

"Y- yeah, it's m- me… have you seen S- a- ara?"

"Isn't that the girl you were with?" I ask, trying not to laugh at Funderberker's disposition.

"Y- you were with _Sara_?" he asks Wirt, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

"What's it to you, Funderberker?" asks Wirt, scowling. Jeez, calm down! _I'm_ usually the unfriendly one.

"I'm Beatrice," I say, extending a hand. Maybe this will break the tension.

"I h-haven't seen you before," Funderberker says, shaking back. Cold hands, ah!

"I'm an exchange student."

"F-from where?"

"_What's it to you, Funderberker_?!" I yell, mimicking Wirt. He grins at me, and then at Jason.

"I don't know where Sara is, dude. Maybe in the library?"

"I was t- thinking that. W- wanna come f- find her?"

"Yeah, sure."

I look around curiously as we enter the school; a few front desks for several occasions are armed with grumpy secretaries, and a giant mural of a bee hive is displayed on the walls.

"It smells weird in here," I observe, turning down a hallway.

"It's j- just school smell, n- nothing new, right?" asks Funderberker, kind of suspicious. Wirt glares in no general direction.

"Yeah. Yep. Yes."

As we enter the library, Wirt waves to the old woman at the desk.

"Hey, Mrs. Pierce. Have you seen Sara?"

"Good morning, Wirt. She's in the back. But first, who are you?" The woman asks me, walking over to the entrance.

"I'm Beatrice, an exchange student."

"Ah, yes. We knew you were coming," Mrs. Pierce says, tossing me a large brown leather book from a nearby shelf.

"_The Lost Girl_?" I read aloud from the cover.

"It's about a young woman who escaped to another land because hers was destroyed," says Mrs. Pierce airily, "I thought you'd enjoy it."

"Uh. Thanks," I say, tucking the book away. Wirt and I exchange confused glances. What the heck?

"Come on, let's go see S- Sara!" exclaims Funderberker, heading into the stacks. Wirt and I hang back, bewildered.

"That was weird," I whisper.

"She's always been wacky. It's probably just a coincidence," Wirt replies, taking the book out of my hands. He flips through the pages and looks up at me.

"…Right?"

**A/N: Sorry for the gap in updates! I've been pretty busy. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


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